We Aren't Who We Used To Be
by SimpsonSortia
Summary: Dramione One-Shot. Word Of The Day challenge: Satiate. Draco has a surprise for Hermione on a very pleasant morning, and a question to ask. Fluff.


Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters or elements of J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter. Anything written here is purely for entertainment and will not be making any profit.

We Aren't Who We Used To Be

Summary: Dramione One-Shot. Based on a Word Of The Day challenge. Word: Satiate. Draco has a surprise for Hermione on a very pleasant morning, and a question to ask.

Main Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy.

Rating: T

Warnings: Mild sexual references.

Genre: Romance. Humour. Somewhat fluffy. One-shot.

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– We Aren't Who We Used To Be –

'_Satiate'_

Hermione smiled, her eyes closed, as she felt the warmth of the sun stream in through the large windows and onto her back, a gentle wake up call. She inhaled deeply, drawing in the musky scent and feeling the swell of her breasts press down onto the silken sheets beneath her unclothed body.

She rolled onto her back, pulling the material with her, enjoying the feeling of the smooth fabric gliding across her sensitive skin. She gently extended her limbs, stretching out the kinks and knots that had worked their way into her muscles after the previous night's activities.

Her smile stretched wider as she recalled the events that had caused such feelings. She tenderly pulled herself up until sitting, admiring the glorious ache running through her body. She teased her fingers through her hair, as her mind drifted to the empty space in the large bed next to her.

It was then that she heard a gentle tune drifting through the door that had been pulled to, but not entirely closed, opposite where she sat. She closed her eyes again, enjoying the soft sound as she heard the muted tenor rising and falling in time with the recorded melody.

Stifling a yawn, Hermione twisted herself round until her feet rested on the cool marble, taking pleasure in the fresh temperature contrasting with her heated body. She stood, facing the sunshine, thoroughly grateful that the windows of this penthouse flat were so much higher up the West London skyline than most.

She eyed the garments that lay strewn across the floor, noting the missing buttons on yesterday's blouse. She pushed her work skirt out of her way with her toes, as she made her way to a larger shirt that had barely been draped across a plush armchair underneath one large window that gave her a stunning view of the Saturday noon-time scenery.

She slipped the evidently expensive material over her arms, buttoning up the front before rolling the sleeves up to give her hands access.

Crossing the room to the wooden double doors, she stopped to admire the sight of herself in the full length mirror adorning one wall. She marvelled at the new-found brightness in her eyes, the rosiness of her cheeks, and the smile that would not leave her lips.

She attempted to pat down her wild mane, giving up when the frantic curls stubbornly sprung up further beneath her fingers. Spying her wand on one windowsill, she reached over for it, twisting her hair up on the back of her hand and securing it in place with the vinewood, eternally grateful that she had been able to acquire it again after the dreadful events of the war.

She twirled once, giggling slight in appreciation of the blissfully content woman reflected back at her. She touched the light bruising across her neck and collarbone, a sign of his own appreciation of her.

She grinned like a love-struck teen once again as she pushed open the doors ahead of her, and made her way down the windowed corridor and past the large bathroom of the flat.

One of her main loves of this apartment was the light and airy space that filled each room. She loved being able to see as far as the horizon from almost any room in this home, relishing in the sunlight that continued to brush against her skin.

She padded across the open plan lounge, towards the mid-height partition wall that separated the kitchen and living areas.

Taking a moment to appreciate the man before her, Hermione was in awe of the grace and elegance that flowed through his body as he went about such menial tasks as cooking. He continued to hum the same tune she had heard before, as the refrain came to an end, the radio continuing on as another song started up.

He sighed happily in approval of the new melody, evidently one to his taste. He turned to place the frying pan that he had been using into the sink when he caught sight of the beauty that leaned against the counter.

'Good morning.' He greeted pleasantly with warm eyes and a mischievous grin.

'Good morning to you too.' She beamed back as he stepped forward, his arms sliding around her waist.

She gently ran her fingers up his sculpted chest to his neck, where they came to rest as she toyed softly with the short hairs on the nape of his neck.

'Well, someone's in a pleasant mood.' He remarked, leaning down to rest his forehead on her own.

'It's hard not to be.' She replied as she tilted her face up to meet his waiting lips.

He drew her body closer to himself, unwilling to break away from her just yet. Hermione was the first to break the kiss as she gazed up into his tempestuous silver eyes, stormy with lust and affection.

'Oh, I could definitely get used to this.' He murmured, stroking the tip of his nose along her jaw line, fluttering occasional kisses against her skin.

'I like the sound of that.' She breathed, enjoying the attention he lavished on her.

He stilled slightly at her reply, before drawing himself up to his full height, looking down into her mocha-coloured eyes.

'You do?'

'Of course.' She smiled, reaching up on her toes to press a gentle kiss against the corner of his chiselled jaw. When he didn't respond, she slid one hand up into his dishevelled, platinum hair, caressing the back of his head in the way she knew he liked.

His gaze lead off into the far distance as his lack of reaction began to worry her.

'Draco?' She questioned, attempting to draw him back to the present.

'Hm?' He answered, not quite with her fully.

'Is everything ok?'

He paused for a long moment, apparently weighing up his reply in order to be completely truthful. He looked down, meeting her worried gaze, as a wide smile spread its way across his features.

'You know, everything is just wonderful.' He pecked her briefly on the lips before taking her hand in his own and leading her past the counter island in the centre of the narrow room.

'Are we not having breakfast this morning?' She asked. He stopped suddenly, grumbling to himself as he turn back a few steps and grabbed his wand, flicking it in the direction of the appliances and hobs that had been working away around the kitchen.

'In a minute. Not yet. More important things.' He muttered, pulling her along with him, into his spacious office. He dropped her hand, striding around to the opposite side of his desk to rummage around in the papers that topped the surface as she stepped towards the large window.

'Here!' He exclaimed, something small held tightly in his palm. He calmed a little as he approached her, her eyes widened at the suddenly serious expression on her face.

He took one of her hands in his own as he cleared his throat, apparently ready to make a speech of sorts.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Not this.

Anything but this.

She wasn't ready.

They weren't ready.

Their relationship, if it could be called that, was not prepared for such a step. They'd talked about their future. They'd talked of their hopes and dreams. And they'd talked of what they wanted from this relationship.

After the first few happenings between them, they had both struck up the courage to acknowledge there was something more than just carnal lustings here. Feelings grew, and they realised they enjoyed each other a lot more than what occasional nights of bliss could give them.

And so they had moved into this almost-relationship. Almost, because they had yet to put a name to it.

Yes, they spent nearly every available moment together. Yes, it had been many weeks, touching on months, since they had spent a whole night apart. And yes, their friends and families had silently and gladly accepted their need to be with each other, in whatever capacity.

But was this even a steady relationship? Could she refer to this man before her as her boyfriend? As more than that? Boyfriend seemed such a mundane word, partner too stiff and formal.

He was her Draco. And she his Hermione. And they were more than content with that.

So why was he here in front of her, hand still clutched tightly around the object in his palm, telling her he loved her company, he loved being with her, and to be perfectly honest, he was head over heels in love with her?

He knew how she felt about it.

He knew she was not ready for this.

He knew the look of panic in her eyes.

Which is why he stopped midsentence and raised his hand to caress the side of her face.

'Hermione, please calm down.' He smiled.

'I'm calm! I am calm. I'm not panicking. Look, heart-rate normal. Palms not sweaty. Ok, a little sweaty...'

'I would be highly surprised and perhaps a little offended if your heart-rate was normal when in such close proximity to me and my magnificent body.' He winked at her, teasing her.

She giggled nervously, still unsure of his intentions. He sighed in amusement, bringing her closer and cradling her head against his chest.

'Hermione Granger, in a panic, what a sight.' He chuckled. 'So much for that famed Gryffindor bravery.'

She pressed her forehead against his chest in an attempt to muffle her speech.

'We talked about this...' She began.

'On the contrary, my dear, we haven't spoken a word about this. We've spoken of many things, granted. We talk about work, about family, about how good I am in bed...'

She swatted the torso she leaned against, blushing even after all this time as he laughed.

'Many things. Merlin, we've even talked about marriage.' He mock shuddered, knowing her aversion to the subject. 'But not this.'

She looked up in surprise. 'You don't want to marry me?'

'Of course I want to marry you, Granger, nothing would make me happier. But no, I'm not proposing to you.'

Her eyes narrowed in scepticism as she took a step back to survey the man in front of her.

'Then what's all this about?'

He laughed softly as he stepped forward to take her in his arms again.

'This, Hermione Jean Granger, is a proposition, rather than a proposal.'

'I'm listening...' She allowed.

He raised his left hand, uncurling his fingers to show her the shiny metal key that lay in his palm.

'I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm asking you to move in with me.'

She touched the object resting on his hand delicately, almost as if to test if it was really there.

'Move in with you?' Her eyes steady on the key to his front door, and, essentially, his heart.

'Yes.' He replied.

'As in, live with you?' She gently took the key from his hand, holding it up to her eyes to examine it closely.

'No, as in you have this flat, I'll find another. Of course, live with me. Here. I know how much you love this apartment, and you know how much I love you.' He swallowed, aware that she hadn't given him an answer yet. 'I mean, we spend more time here than anywhere else, except maybe work, but I don't plan on moving into the Ministry. As fond of me as Shacklebolt seems to be, I think he might be adverse to me setting up a camp bed in the middle of the Atrium...'

'Draco, shut up.' She smiled up at him. His heart leapt.

She reached up once more, slipping her arms around his neck as he held tightly to her hips.

'I love you, you know that.' She confessed.

'I know.' He choked out, around the lump of uncertainty that had formed in his throat.

She grinned then and he knew she had been taunting him, drawing out his doubt.

'Of course I'll move in with you, you daft, blonde Malfoy.' She pressed her lips firmly against his, feeling him return her grin as he kissed her back.

'To be fair,' He panted, after they had broken apart. 'I think most Malfoys are daft and blonde. With the exception of Mother perhaps.'

'Perhaps.' She conceded with a smile. 'So, what about breakfast then, roomie?'

'Mmm, sounds good to me.' He bent down to run his lips across the delicate skin of her throat, as his fingers found their way to the buttons of his shirt that she was wearing.

She stepped away from him, back towards the kitchen leaving his fingers empty.

'Well I was thinking more of the eggs and bacon kind...' She began, her backward steps increasing in speed.

'Oh really now?' He smirked, stalking towards her, hunting his prey.

'Maybe beans. Fried bread definitely!' She shrieked as he ran after her, chasing her through the kitchen as she led them at a run back to where she had begun such an enchanting morning.

Her squeals of laughter sounded across the apartment as the couple thoroughly enjoyed the rest of their afternoon in bed, the half-cooked food thoroughly forgotten.

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**A/N: Some cheeky, fluffy goodness (I hope) for you, courtesy of a bout of insomnia and an avoidance of real work. Again, unbeta-ed. And my eyes hurt now, so apologies for any mistakes. I will rectify when not sleep-deprived.**

**Title is again an Alabama Shakes number - 'I Ain't The Same'. I should perhaps start taking title-inspiration from my mind than from other people's songs. But the story is mine. So there we go.**

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Waffling complete.**

**Good night.**

**_SimpsonSortia_ **


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